Here I am, your one man circus freak show, having bled out for mother Russia, having desperately tried to get to you, now on top of you with this scourge marks, and you, who used to love me, who was sympathized, internalized, normalized everything, you are not allowed to turn away from me....this is what I am going to look like until the day I die. I can't get any peace from you ever unless you find away to make peace with this. Make peace with me. Or let me go for good.

I know that sometimes the things we carry become too much for us. We are burned down, but somehow we have to pick ourselves up and keep going

You are my hand grenade, my artillery fire. You have replaced my heart with yourself.

If I can live through this, he thought, I can live through anything. If I can live through this, I WILL live through anything.

Not bombs nor my broken heart can take away from me walking barefoot with you in jasmine June through the Field of Mars.

Love is when he is hungry and you feed him. Love is knowing when he is hungry.

I wish I could spend six years writing one novel.